


I'm no superman

by Drifting_clouds



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-22
Updated: 2012-08-22
Packaged: 2017-11-12 16:37:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/493408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drifting_clouds/pseuds/Drifting_clouds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This fic was written for 2012 Summer Slash (prompts “beach” and “black widow” of the Mark Webber card). Somebody is bent on conquering the world and, for once, it isn’t Lewis. Crack fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm no superman

The beach looked boundless, a stretch of coastal dunes whose profile was constantly reshaped by a capricious wind. Against his ankles, the sea water was warm and small fronds of seaweed lazily rolled around like underwater tumbleweeds. Lewis had only enough time to sigh at the peaceful scene when a shrill cry echoed around him. It seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at the same time and the Brit found himself looking frantically around for danger.  
  
Then scream began again, only this time the whole beach quivered around him while the sand took on a strange translucency. The whole thing felt so weird that Lewis had to close his eyes to keep the queasiness at bay.  
  
Everything started to shake and when the Brit opened his eyes once again, the beach and the sea were gone. He found himself sitting on a couch, Fernando right beside him. The Spaniard was crouched on the couch, one hand urgently shaking the other man’s arm and the other pointing at something.  
  
Hamilton cast his lover a worried glance.  
  
“What?” He asked “What’s wrong?”  
  
Alonso didn’t answer, he just kept pointing a very shaky finger at the floor. Then Lewis saw the spider. It was light and spindly and trying valiantly to climb the plushy carpet.  
  
Oh yeah, Fernando was arachnophobic; very much so. Lewis had discovered the fact during their year together at McLaren when he had poured a jar full of spiders on his rival’s seat and almost given him a heart attack in the process. Ron had not particularly appreciated that prank.  
  
The spider swayed to the left, pirouetted on its legs like a drunken ballerina and moved off erratically towards the kitchen.  
  
“Do you think it’s a black widow?” Fernando inquired urgently.  
  
Lewis shrugged.  
  
“Dunno” he said. “Might be.”  
  
There was more than a touch of masochism in that kind of answer, the Brit thought, especially when your lover starts screaming again and grabs you to use as some kind of human shield between himself and the lethal foe. Lewis felt Fernando’s arm wrap around his neck efficiently cutting off his air supply, but, before he had time to worry, the momentum sent them falling off the couch in a tangle.  
  
“I was kidding” he said between gasps “For God’s sake Nando… it was a joke! Let go of me, if you still expect me to help you piss Vettel off during the next race!”  
  
Alonso glared at him. Then shrieked again as he noticed that the spider had done a U-turn and was now headed in their direction. Fernando got up and ran into the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him. Lewis raised his eyes heavenward as he heard the key turn in the lock; he quickly trapped the dumb looking creature under a glass, sliding a scrap of paper under it. Satisfied, he moved to one of the windows looking onto the small terrace, opened it and dumped the spider outside.  
“You can come out” he yelled “The coast is clear.”  
  
“Did you kill it?”  
  
“No” said Lewis “I simply kicked it out.”  
  
The door didn’t open.  
  
“What if it comes back?”  
  
“How? The window is locked.”  
  
“Yeah, but what if it’s planning on conquering the world and decided to turn this apartment into its headquarters…”  
  
“It would still be locked out. So…”  
  
The door still didn’t open.  
  
“Listen, why don’t we dine out as you suggested?”  
  
“You said you didn’t want to go out.”  
  
“I find that I suddenly changed my mind.”  
  
“And you expect me to leave my flat at the mercy of…”  
  
“It’s still locked out” Lewis reminded him “But, if you choose to hide in that big bedroom all by yourself, I believe that it’s my duty to tell you that the spider might have accomplices. You know how it goes with this whole world domination thing…”  
  
The key turned into the lock and Fernando emerged from the room. He had changed his clothes and he looked ready to go out. With a grin, the Spaniard stopped to give Lewis a quick kiss, then handed him his jacket and dragged him out of the apartment.  
  
“You’re a clever bastard.” Lewis conceded with a touch of admiration when he realised he’d been had.  
  
Meanwhile on the terrace, the spider gleefully rubbed its front legs together, as he eyed the empty apartment. Humans could be so easy to manipulate, it thought as it climbed down a jasmine flower to make its way back inside.


End file.
